A letter arrived in Lohitpuri, bearing the seal of a warlord, Savigny. It was short, but its words carried weight. It spoke of Arya's growing distance, of troubles that were no longer whispers but looming realities. The writing was rushed, yet the message was clear—Arya was slipping away. The letter also contained a smaller, stranger line near the end. One that made Rudra's hands clench around the paper as he read it aloud to Raghav.
"Rohak has been reassigned. Transferred from Trishan to Vayodhara."
Rudra set the letter down on the table, breathing hard. The room was quiet, the only sound being his footsteps as he began pacing.
"The situation is getting out of hand," he muttered, his voice edged with frustration. "So many weeks, and we are losing Arya day by day."
Raghav leaned back in his chair, brows furrowed. "What did Savignya say?"
"According to her, it is still too early to act. If we interfere now, we might push Arya over the edge. She believes any open meddling could sever his trust permanently."
Raghav didn't respond immediately. His jaw clenched, and his gaze dropped to the floor, deep in thought. Before he could speak again, the heavy wooden door creaked open. An officer rushed in, boots thudding against stone, a scroll in his hand.
Ashvapati turned to the man, accepted the scroll, and broke the seal. His eyes scanned the contents with his usual cold calm. But Rudra noticed it—something flickered across the mountain-man's face. A shift. Small, but unmistakable. For Ashvapati, it was as good as a shout.
He folded the letter carefully and placed it on the table.
"We have news," he said. "And you are not going to like it."
The twins turned toward him. He didn't pause.
"Sarthak has broken his alliance with Rankriti."
Silence fell over the chamber.
Ashvapati continued, his voice steady. "He has claimed the entirety of Jangal Mandala. The mountains, rivers, lakes, the three forest cities—they now belong to him, by his own decree. He has issued a warning: all external forces are to vacate the Mandala immediately. If he finds anyone left behind, he will kill them."
Raghav stood frozen, trying to comprehend the weight of what had just been said. Rudra's eyes widened in disbelief.
"He went against Rankriti? Alone?" Rudra said, struggling to grasp it. "How? How could he even think of doing something like this?"
Raghav added quickly, "Even if he had the numbers... Rankriti doesn't bow to armies. She crushes them. How did he muster the courage to betray her?"
Ashvapati didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Raghav turned to him. "Does the letter say anything else?"
Ashvapati shook his head once. "Only the claim, and the threat."
Rudra's face hardened. He walked to the side of the room, picked up a fresh scroll, and began writing. "Send a message. Pull our men out of there. I won't lose another soul. Not to Sarthak. Let him think he's won something. But I suspect he's not done. He will come for us next."
Raghav was still trying to connect the pieces. "This betrayal is not simple. Rankriti won't ignore it. She will bring Sarthak down. She must."
He turned to Ashvapati. "Do you think he can actually fight her?"
Ashvapati responded without hesitation. "No. Sarthak is powerful. But not powerful enough to challenge Rankriti and survive."
"Exactly," Raghav said, nodding sharply. "Then he has something. A support, a weapon, something we haven't seen. He's hiding a strength. We need to find out what it is."
Rudra set the scroll aside. "Bring Chorpatta in. Pull every Whisperer out of Jangal Mandala. Send them all here—to the pit. We prepare now. This is no longer just a problem—it's war."
Ashvapati and Raghav nodded.
Within the hour, letters were sent out. Messengers mounted fast horses.
Dhanudanda, Kritipal, Savignya, Kaushan—each received a letter from Parashar's hand. The same few lines, copied with grim precision.
The council has been broken. Sarthak has betrayed us. A meeting of the Yamsabha is called. Urgent.
The news travelled like a spark in dry grass.